


You Can Give Me All That I Lack

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anal Fingering, Bottom Harry, Dirty Talk, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship, Switching, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Potter and Malfoy are the best at everything, so clearly, they’d be best at shagging each other as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Give Me All That I Lack

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Non-Magical AU. Characters mostly refer to themselves in their surnames.  
>  **Written for[hd_tropes](http://hd-tropes.livejournal.com/), thanks a million to arjd for the beta**  
>  Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

_You make me confront the best and the worst in myself, but before you, I feel I do not need to be ashamed._  
You inhabit the same domain as I do, but  
**you can give me all that I lack, you are my complement.**  
It is true that our imagination loves the same images, desires the  
same forms, the same creations; but physically, organically, you are  
warmth, whereas I am cold. You are supple, voluptuous, fluid, whereas  
I am hard like flint, calcined, fossilized. A fatality which is  
beyond us has thrown us together; you were aware of it, you saw the  
resemblances, you felt the good we could do to each other. 

——————————

It started with a push on the basketball court. It was always a push here, kick there, and then the charade began all over again—always ending with punches thrown.

"Oi, watch it, Malfoy!" Potter retorted, claiming he had not fouled and thus Malfoy had no reason to push him. And Malfoy knew Potter would never back down from a challenge.

"You watch yourself, Potter. You’re cheating! You think you’ve got the ref in your pocket? You don’t. No sort of celebrity status is going to cover the fact that you’ve got no talent and you just rely on cheating!" Malfoy knew that would get Potter riled up.

"What did you say?" Potter launched towards Malfoy, ready to punch him. He would have been successful, too, if Malfoy’s mate, Goyle hadn’t gotten in the way and stopped Potter.

The coach whistled.

"That’s it—practice is over for you two. Why don’t you get back to the side-lines," Remus Lupin announced, pointing towards the exit.

"But, he started it, coach, I didn’t do anything!" Malfoy whinged.

"I don’t want to hear it, Malfoy. I've had it with both of you. This is supposed to be a fun event. It’s a game for charity and the two of you have made it about each other, again!"

Malfoy grumbled.

"Potter, avoid the showers. I don’t want the two of you to start a fight in there when there’s no one to monitor your behaviour." Lupin always took Potter’s side. 

Of course Malfoy would start the fight; Lupin didn't know the things Potter whispered to get him all tensed up. Potter wasn't as innocent as everyone made him out to be, and Malfoy’s only flaw was that he managed to lose his cool first.

Potter nodded and headed home. Malfoy wouldn’t have to see him for another twelve hours.

Malfoy and Potter were Emergency Medical Technicians and partners. They had been first responders for over three years. Neither liked the fact that they were paired with the other in the first place but they soon discovered that regardless of how they felt towards each other in their personal life, professionally, they were the best team possible. They always arrived first at an emergency and saved lives countless times. Malfoy would simply have to look at Potter and he’d know what he wanted to do; they almost always communicated non–verbally. When verbal communication was required, however, they were the worst pair possible.

A childhood rivalry had transcended into adulthood and though it was a coincidence that they applied for the same job, were accepted and became partners they never accepted that there was a possibility that one was better than the other. Their manager Lupin believed that was what made them the best team, their constant race with each other.

Things had only become worse though, when another ambulance station from another county challenged Lupin’s group to a basketball game for the Children’s Charity Fund and the winning team would gain bragging rights for a year while the charity would benefit from over ten thousand pounds. Everyone knew that the basketball game was purely for fun; however, no one would have guessed that Malfoy and Potter were on the same team given how much they fought. The rest of the team members had given up hope for winning because the two simply could not work together.

The game was one week away and the team was neither prepared nor feeling confident. Most of the time, everyone was simply forced to break up fights between the two self–proclaimed stars, but Lupin had an idea. At their next practice, Lupin hired a university basketball team to rival their team, _the Phoenix Order_.

"Alright, so this is going to be a mock run for the big game. These blokes are specialists, they play for their university. Let’s learn from them!" Lupin announced. He was sure that he was setting up his team for a failure. He wished for the players to realise that they couldn't be selfish in the game, if anything this practice was going to give them a good lesson on teamwork.

The session started with free throws. A university player started first. The rules were simple. A university player shot the ball into the basket; if they missed, then a player from _the Order_ would try to score, then another after that, until they missed a shot and the turn would resume to the university player. Both teams had ten players. The members of _the Order_ did not get a chance for a free throw until all ten of the university players had had their chance. They were _good_.

Lupin had done this on purpose because he wanted to motivate his players. Ron Weasley threw the first ball for his team and scored. Dean Thomas was next, he succeeded as well. Then came Potter’s turn. He scored and the team cheered. Blaise Zabini missed his shot, and Malfoy stepped up. Potter muttered something under his breath; Neville Longbottom snickered. Malfoy shot a look of disdain towards the two.

"Come on, Malfoy," Lupin said, "the actual game is going to be a lot more distracting than this. Concentrate on your shot!" He looked over towards Potter and Longbottom and spoke again, "I'm watching you." He winked at Potter which annoyed Malfoy.

Lupin had been best friends with Potter’s dad and Malfoy always believed that he favoured Potter because of it. Malfoy threw the ball and Potter coughed at the same time. It staggered Malfoy but he still managed to make the shot. Malfoy turned to Potter and spat, "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter."

"Nice jump, Malfoy. Training for the ballet?" Potter sneered.

After all the players had their turn at free throw, besides Zabini, the only other people who missed the shot were Vincent Crabbe and Wayne Hopkins. Pansy Parkinson had a field day making fun of the blokes that missed the shot; it seemed the only three girls on the team were better than the men.

For the first round, the five players from _the Order_ that were chosen were Longbottom, Weasley, Parkinson, Patil, and Zabini. It was a twenty minute run. Weasley played centre and Parkinson was shooting guard. They had the best chemistry on the field; it also helped that they used to be paramedic partners. Their professional partnership had to come to an end when Lupin had found out that Parkinson had started shagging Weasley. He'd switched Bones for Parkinson, who was now working with Hopkins.

The round in itself wasn’t terrible, unless you asked Malfoy or Potter, who kept screaming at their mates every time a university student stole the ball. Zabini was best at dribble and Patil was quite good at blocking. Longbottom was the only one who made three-point shots. The score at the end of the first session was 12–8. Lupin was impressed that his team only lost by four points.

The university players had brought their assistant coach, Rolanda Hooch, for a show. She informed Lupin that he needn’t worry so much. His first round of players understood each other well. Lupin worried for the second round. He wondered how his two best paramedics would behave as players.

Lupin didn’t care about the prize. He didn’t worry about how good the other EMT team would be, he simply wanted his paramedics to build a trust amongst themselves. He knew that in themselves all his employees had a drive to help people. He wanted to ensure that drive and further it into a bigger bond of comradeship. He admitted to Hooch that he didn’t bring the university players to show his team how poorly they would perform; instead, he’d brought them because he wanted his employees to learn about trust, especially Potter and Malfoy.

The second round was when it all got interesting. Malfoy was centre and Potter was point guard. Lupin watched them both carefully; the moment Susan Bones passed the ball to Malfoy, Potter ran opposite from him, they locked eyes for a brief second and Malfoy passed the ball to Potter, who scored. Crabbe and Hopkins did mostly blocking and most of the shots were made by Potter, Malfoy and Bones. All the players on the court screamed at each other—giving instructions on who to pass to, what to do, but Malfoy would nod and Potter seemed to understand. It was just like being on the field; on the same team, they were unstoppable.

At the end of the round, the final score was 14–7. _The Phoenix Order_ had won. Lupin didn’t believe it. Hooch didn’t believe it. The only people who seemed to have believed it were Potter and Malfoy. "Cocky bastards," Weasley spat out in disbelief. Malfoy figured it was because here, too, Malfoy was better than him, Potter might be alright as well.

"Come on, Ron, let’s hit the showers," Parkinson said, winking at her boyfriend. "It’ll make you feel better." Weasley chased after her and the others groaned. "Don’t worry, we’ll use the private stall!" she shouted back to her co-workers.

Bones asked Potter if he wanted to accompany her in the other stall. The women had the option of using the private bathrooms at the gym. Potter laughed and politely declined. He said he wished to stay back and discuss strategy with Lupin. Malfoy snorted.

"What?" Potter snapped.

"Why don’t you just tell her you’re bent?" Malfoy said.

"In your dreams, Malfoy," Potter retorted.

Almost everyone had left the basketball court when Lupin talked with Malfoy and Potter. He gave them the usual lecture he’d given them about their work, this time it was about the basketball game.

——————————

Potter was livid that Malfoy had insulted him again in front of others about his sexuality. He wasn’t out at work and hated the fact that for some reason, Malfoy knew. Potter’s thoughts were interrupted when Lupin began scolding them, again.

"It’s the same thing, I can’t figure the two of you out. You fight like two hungry snakes and when it comes to teamwork, you’re unstoppable. Listen, you know I want to promote the two of you but you have to start acting more professional around your co-workers. I can’t have two of you hissing at each other every chance you get. It’s clear that you understand one another, so when are you going to start acting civil?"

Potter shrugged and Malfoy didn’t flinch.

Lupin sighed. "Listen, the game is next week, and then we are going to have a celebratory party—win or lose. Of course, I'd prefer to win. I want to announce the promotion then, so I need the two of you to behave at practice. If you do, then you’re getting the advancement in your career, if not, I am going to have to give it to Weasley."

"Weasley?" Malfoy sneered. "He doesn’t deserve it, and you know that."

"It’s more than being good at your job; it’s how you handle work relationships as well. You and Weasley have never seen eye to eye and Potter and Weasley are best mates —" Lupin paused for a moment and Potter interjected.

"Ron deserves it as much as we do," Potter commented, causing Malfoy to hiss again.

"What about the other position, you’re going to give it to Longbottom?" Malfoy asked, with a hint of sarcasm. Lupin nodded. "I can’t believe you are going to make _Longbottom_ my supervisor!"

"You two are best at saving lives, and you should continue doing that if you can’t handle an amicable relationship in the workplace. I can’t have this type of hostility. I don’t want to promote one of you and not the other when you two deserve it equally. So it’ll be all or nothing. If it’s not you two, it’ll be Weasley and Longbottom."

Potter nodded and Malfoy looked as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Lupin gave them both a curt nod and walked out of the room. Potter picked up his gym bag and headed for the showers. He didn’t care if Malfoy was following him.

Everyone had left the gym by then so Potter opted for the private stall. The warm water soothed the annoying ache he had on his lower back. He closed his eyes and stood under the showerhead as the water continued running. He thought about how fantastic the game had been and how much fun he had had. It was as though he was back at school and playing for his team. The feeling of nostalgia ran through his veins as he remembered being on the team with Ron and Ginny as Hermione cheered from the seats. Potter smiled. He especially liked the showers after the game. The post–winning bliss, the _devil–may–care_ attitude as his teammates walked around naked, teasing and telling stories. He remembered how he used to admire their bodies.

Potter’s hand slowly travelled down to his now erect cock and began stroking. He let out a soft moan. He was sure no one was out there. Malfoy preferred going home to shower than sharing the space with others.

"Need a hand?" Potter’s thoughts were interrupted; he had been wrong. Malfoy was still around.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"It is the showers, Potter," Malfoy answered.

"It’s a private stall, why are you here?" Potter retorted.

"I heard you, figured you could use a hand," Malfoy teased.

"I don’t need your hand, Malfoy!" Potter all but screamed.

"Didn’t you hear what Lupin said, we need to get along," Malfoy said as he walked into the stall and closed the door behind him. Potter stared at Malfoy’s naked body, unable to tear his gaze away. His own body betrayed him as his cock twitched correspondingly.

"I told you, I am not bent," Potter whispered his lie. His voice betrayed him.

"Right, that’s why I used to catch you staring at Diggory in the locker rooms," Malfoy answered. Malfoy had completely invaded Potter’s personal space. The mist that rose from the hot water surrounded them and Malfoy’s gaze turned downwards to Potter’s erection. "I see you’re ready to go," he said.

"How do you know that?" Potter asked ignoring Malfoy’s comment about his elated state. "You didn’t even play basketball."

"I know, I was in track and field, you’ve forgotten?" Malfoy whispered in return. This was a secretive thing they were doing, a dirty little secretive thing. His hand slowly slid down from Potter’s chest and Potter’s heartbeat sped up.

"I try not to think about you if I can help it," Potter replied. He gasped; his mouth remained open breathing in the surprise of feeling Malfoy’s hand on his erection as Malfoy gently stroked him for the first time.

"Touch me," Malfoy whispered, the hot water continued to pour on their body as Malfoy tugged on Potter’s cock. Potter hesitated. "Tell me you don’t want this," Malfoy whispered again. Potter wrapped his hand around Malfoy’s cock and squeezed.

Potter stroked upwards and ran his thumb over the head of Malfoy’s prick. He continued by pushing his hand back down, he was rough. Malfoy moaned and his own hand clasped tighter against Potter’s heat. For a while they continued to moan and thrust themselves into each other’s fists. Potter came first; he chalked it off to having a head start. He continued stroking Malfoy until he spilled all over his hand. Malfoy was panting; he leaned back and rested himself on the wall of the tiny private shower. Potter grabbed soap and began to lather himself as though nothing had just happened. He didn’t know what else to do, so it was business as usual. Malfoy watched him so Potter offered him the soap and Malfoy grabbed it. They continued to lather themselves and wash in silence.

"Your car is still in the shop?" Malfoy asked breaking the silence as Potter was avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah," Potter replied. He ducked his head under the running water and rinsed out his hair.

"You’ll need me to pick you up again tomorrow morning before the shift?" Malfoy asked as Potter turned his back towards him. Potter pushed his hands against the wall and wanted to feel the water run on his back. He would have simply moved under the shower but Malfoy was currently occupying the other half.

"I can take a taxi to the station if it’s too much trouble," Potter replied. His head hung low and as he soaked in the warmth. He knew Malfoy was staring at his arse.

"I’ll ring you in the morning and let you know," Malfoy responded as he left the shower. Potter turned the valve off moments after Malfoy was off. That was the most civil conversation they had had in months.

——————————

The next morning Potter received a text saying Malfoy was able to give him a ride to work. Potter was still confused as to what had happened the evening before. They’d wanked each other off and went on their way.

 _Was this normal? Do other people do this_? _Will we do it again?_ Potter's mind couldn't stop asking questions.

When Malfoy pulled up in front of Potter’s house he honked four times. Potter was sure Malfoy was in one of his moods. Potter had told him several times that honking once would have sufficed. Malfoy was often late and Potter usually sat around waiting for him so one honk would easily indicate that he’d arrived. Malfoy never listened.

"Morning," Potter said as he sat on the passenger seat of Malfoy’s Land Rover. Malfoy grunted. He was in one of his moods. After a few short moments of silence, Potter spoke again, "Draco?"

Malfoy immediately raised an eyebrow; he knew when Potter called him by his first name, it meant he wanted something. "Yes, Harry?" Malfoy teased. Potter rolled his eyes.

"Are we going to talk about—what happened—after practice?" Potter chose his words carefully; he wasn’t sure what to call it.

"What’s there to talk about?" Malfoy responded casually.

"I don’t know, why it happened. Is it going to happen again—"

"Do you want it to happen again?" Malfoy asked, interrupting Potter.

"Do you?" Potter responded.

"Bloody hell, Potter. Do you ever have an opinion of your own?" Malfoy retorted. Malfoy pressed on the accelerator and sped off.

"What is your bloody problem, Malfoy?" Potter reacted. "I have no fucking clue what the hell goes on in your head and now you’re cross with me for— _for what_?"

Malfoy didn’t respond. He continued to drive speedily, dodging lights and almost hitting innocent pedestrians. "Honestly, Malfoy. With the way you drive, it’s hard to believe you’re in the career of helping victims. It’s arseholes like you that cause accidents in the first place."

Malfoy slammed on the brakes of his car and came to a screeching halt. "Out!" he shouted.

"What?" Potter snapped.

"Out of the bloody car, Potter!" Malfoy shouted again.

Potter huffed but he grabbed his bag and left Malfoy’s car, slamming the door behind him. Malfoy sped away leaving Potter stranded on a busy street. He eventually walked up to taxi rank and found an empty one for hire, arriving at the station fifteen minutes later.

Potter immediately headed to the locker room to change out of his uniform when he felt someone tug him and push him against the wall. It was Malfoy.

"What the –" Before Potter could complete his thought, Malfoy’s lips were on Potter’s. They had never kissed before. It had been a while since Potter had snogged _anyone_. It was oddly comforting yet disturbing at the same time. Potter hated Malfoy.

Yet he kissed him back.

Malfoy’s hands wandered down to cup Potter’s balls, Potter released a surprised sound. "Shh! They’ll hear us!" Malfoy whispered. His mouth resumed their place on Potter’s and he shoved his tongue down Potter’s throat as his hands unzipped Potter’s trousers and grabbed him.

"What are you doing?" Potter hissed the moment his mouth was released. "We have to be on duty in five minutes!"

"Five minutes is all I need, Potter," Malfoy replied.

Potter’s only response was to bite down on Malfoy’s neck as he allowed Malfoy to pleasure him with his hand once again. Malfoy didn’t ask for a favour in return this time, which Potter found a bit odd. Malfoy almost never did anything altruistically. The thought of repaying the favour later only made Potter harder. He arched into Malfoy’s touch, thrusting into Malfoy’s hand as his colleague continued gratifying him. Once Potter’s mind relaxed, it didn’t take very long for him to come. Three minutes was all he needed. He suppressed an appreciative moan.

Potter took a deep breath and glanced over to the entrance of the locker room, no one else had arrived yet.

"You’re so sexy when you come," Malfoy declared as he released Potter’s spent cock from his hand, gave him a towel and walked away. To say Potter was utterly confused would have been an understatement. But he wasn’t in the mood to try to have a conversation with Malfoy again and have it turn into another argument.

Three days before, Potter and Malfoy were just about ready to murder each other on the basketball court. Yesterday, they played one of the best games ever. The evening before, they wanked each other off and by this morning, Potter had tussled his tongue with Malfoy _and_ come all over his hand again.

 _This can only end in disaster_ , Potter thought. He cleaned himself up and began dressing in his EMT uniform. Malfoy had already left the locker room.

——————————

Malfoy had no clue what in the bloody hell he was doing. He hated Potter, now all he did was think about Potter’s cock. He reckoned this infatuation started when their company had decided to form _the Phoenix Order_. Playing defence with Potter, his body always on top of Malfoy’s, touching him accidentally, brushing up against his arse, that was all simply the tip of the iceberg. Then Potter began talking smack in Malfoy’s ear. It was one thing to share an ambulance with an attractive bloke; his vapid personality would sometimes hide the allure of Potter’s arse. But to feel his hot breath in your ear while his cock is brushing your arse, and those shorts he wore… It tormented Malfoy, something had to be done.

Realising that not only he was a perfect partner in the field, but that Potter also understood Malfoy’s cues in the game turned him on beyond belief. He was finally pushed over the edge when he heard Potter moan in the shower. Malfoy needed to see what was underneath the basketball shorts. So he took a chance and was successful.

When they were in the shower, Malfoy couldn’t help but stare at Potter’s arse, conveniently right in front of him. It took all the self-control he had to not grab it.

——————————

The next day Malfoy gave Potter a lift and this time they didn’t speak at all. After they arrived at the dispatch station, Potter went for a coffee run. When he returned Malfoy and the young dispatcher bloke, Theodore Nott, were snickering. Potter knew Nott from their school days, and Malfoy knew he hated Nott, so he always made sure to keep his friendship with Nott intact just to annoy Potter.

"What did you do, fall in the toilet?" Malfoy asked. "Now if your highness is ready, we’ve got a job to do. There are injured people out there."

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I’ll give _you_ a real injury," Potter retorted. Nott laughed at Potter’s comeback and Malfoy glared at him, shutting him up.

A call came into the dispatch. _RTC on the motorway, a bus toppled over, all units to respond, multiple injuries. All units requested to respond to M11 motorway_.

Potter grabbed his jacket and his emergency kit. He picked up the portable defibrillator and threw it to Malfoy to catch who didn’t flinch and caught it in a second. They had stocked the ambulance with all the supplies the day before so they knew they were set. Malfoy grabbed the ambulance keys from the wall and threw it over to Potter. It was his turn to drive.

In less than ten minutes Potter and Malfoy were on the motorway. A small school bus had tumbled. Another ambulance arrived at the same time as them. Potter instructed them to tend to the driver while he and Malfoy tried to get the kids to safety. Another car had crashed into the upside down bus, but there didn’t seem to be any injuries to the passengers.

Potter asked for one of the other first responders’ assistance as Malfoy reached over and opened the back–door of the school bus. He managed to calm the children. Malfoy was always good with children, much to Potter’s surprise. He instructed them to walk to the back door slowly one at a time and he was going to help them get off the bus. One of the little girls was crying; her brother was badly injured and wasn’t moving.

"I promise you, when everyone is off the bus, I am going to go and get him, okay?" Malfoy assured and the little girl nodded. One by one, most of the children were helped off the bus. It had been leaning sideways against the railing and the bus wobbled. There was one child left on the bus, the little girl’s brother who was assumed unconscious by Malfoy and Potter.

Malfoy looked over at Potter who nodded. He was going to attempt to board the bus and rescue the child before there was a chance that the bus might fall over the edge.

"Maybe we should wait for the fire brigade to arrive," the other Emergency Response Personnel said.

"Shut it," both Malfoy and Potter iterated together.

"Just tend to the children that are injured. More responders are arriving, take care of them!" Potter instructed. He walked up to Malfoy who was determining the best course. "I can give you a boost, just make sure to jump on the right so your weight doesn’t allow the bus to roll over," Potter told Malfoy. "I’d offer but I know you’ll just bite my head off," he added.

Malfoy gave a nervous laugh and nodded in acknowledgement. Potter was correct; Malfoy wouldn’t allow him to go. Malfoy placed his hands on the opening of the bus and Potter kneeled down with his hands clasped together. Malfoy placed one foot on Potter’s hands and Potter pushed him up. He’d successfully entered the bus as it wobbled a bit. He saw Potter bite his lip with uneasiness. He turned around and carefully rushed to the child. Malfoy checked for spinal and neck injuries, the little boy was perfectly alright, just a bit disoriented and scared. He’d woken up and had started crying. Malfoy returned to the edge of the bus and leaned down to carefully place the child in Potter’s hands, when he was safe, Potter walked away from the bus and Malfoy jumped off.

The sirens of the fire engine were heard and the fire brigade arrived, all the children were safe and the driver had already been driven to the closest hospital. Another successful task completed at the job. Now they had to drive the children to the hospital and return to the dispatch station.

Potter and Malfoy spent two hours that morning with the first emergency. Rescuing the children, transporting them to the hospital, and checking up on some of the critical ones. Padma Patil, their co–worker Parvati’s twin sister--was a nurse at the Albus Dumbledore Memorial Hospital. She was always excited to see Malfoy and Potter together and had often teased them of their married–couple–like behaviour.

After lunch, which they almost always spent apart, the rest of their ten hour shift went quite smoothly. They rescued an elderly woman who was suffering from a stroke and helped two ten year olds with knee scratches after they’d fallen off their bicycles.

——————————

They had one final practice session for two hours for basketball that night, and the big game was two days away. The entire ride back to the station, Potter wondered if he and Malfoy were going to resume their newly discovered leisurely pursuits. He knew that he didn’t wish to discuss this any further with Malfoy, it wasn’t going to lead to anything. He’d just see what would happen if and when it did happen again.

By the time they returned to the station, news reporters had flooded the scene. They wanted to interview the two heroic paramedics who risked their own lives to save a bus full of school children. The reporters recognised Potter right away; he was a quasi–celebrity, after all. Malfoy had always made sure he’d remembered that.

Potter’s parents were in the British Special Ops and were killed on duty when he was only a baby. He’d been raised by his aunt until he was ten then was adopted by his godfather, Sirius Black. Potter grew up not knowing his parents while the rest of the world knew who he was. That’s why he’d decided to become a paramedic. He wanted to help people, he wanted to be a healer. Malfoy and his friends in school always insulted him that he wasn’t good at anything, and was only famous because of his _dead parents_.

Potter saw Malfoy’s face when the reporters gave him more attention than Malfoy. Malfoy was the one who had been the hero, not him. When a reporter asked him if he was scared on the job, Potter said, "I didn’t do anything. I just stood by the bus, you should ask him. Malfoy—Draco, he did all the work!" Potter even went further as to say, "I didn’t want to get on the bus, Draco was courageous enough to not think about himself. He should definitely be getting all the credit. I wanted to wait for the fire brigade to arrive."

When the reporters turned their attention from Potter to Malfoy, Potter slowly slipped away from the crowd. He entered the employee lounge and from the corner of his eye saw Lupin shaking his head and smiling at him. Potter changed into his basketball gear and hitched a lift with Patil to the Basketball club. He really needed to get his car back from the shop.

The practice went better than the most. It helped that instead of putting them on opposite teams, Lupin had decided that Potter and Malfoy worked better as part of one team. He told the opposite team to concentrate on their movement and notice the flaws and take advantage. Instead of concentrating on their fighting, when the team concentrated on their teamwork it worked better. Patil was the first to notice the weaknesses; she told Parkinson and Longbottom who followed her lead along with Weasley and Zabini. The second team was able to better block the shots the Potter–Malfoy team was initiating and in the end, instead of a 50–14 score they managed at 39–24, a major improvement on the other side’s development. It built trust amongst the team members and they were able to take the Potter–Malfoy lead to learn a thing or two about coordination.

Lupin said he was more comfortable with the team cooperation now and was sure that even if Potter or Malfoy weren’t on the court, they’d have a better chance to win the tournament.

——————————

After the practice was over, Potter lingered around to do some free throws, saying that he wanted to concentrate on his three–pointer shots. Malfoy knew that he was staying behind for another reason. He wondered if Potter expected another encounter in the showers. Malfoy wasn’t against the idea - if anything, Potter had read his mind.

Malfoy delayed his departure by claiming that he was showing his moves to Parkinson and they seemed to be having a ball until Weasley interrupted, compelling her to leave for the night. As she was leaving she made sure to tell Malfoy that Weasley was spending the night so he should make sure and not return home right away. Malfoy groaned that now he was forced to shower in the club as opposed to home. He was also loud enough to make sure that Potter heard him.

That night, it was Malfoy who was in the private showers and wondered if Potter was going to make an appearance. He knew that Potter and Lupin were good friends with the General Manager and the security guard at the Basketball Club. They often locked up after their practice and the security guard took care of the rest.

Ten minutes into his shower Malfoy was still unaccompanied. He supposed that perhaps Potter had had enough and was calling it quits to their little rendezvous. Disappointed, he washed himself off and wondered if he should wank now or later at home in the comfort of his own bed. He was about to turn the shower valve down when he heard glass door open behind him. Malfoy turned to find a very naked and very hard Potter standing there.

"Sorry, were you just about done?" Potter asked in what Malfoy thought was rather a nonchalant manner.

"Took you long enough. I didn’t think you were going to show," Malfoy replied. There was no reason to beat around the bush. He wanted his cock sucked by Potter and wasn’t going to deny it.

"Yeah, I had to make sure Lupin drove off from the parking lot before I locked up the court and gave the key to the guard. I told him that I’d be ten minutes in the shower. He informed me one more person was still parked in the lot so I figured it was you," Potter answered. Malfoy thought he was wasting precious time if they only had ten minutes before the given time to leave.

"Well, it’s not going suck itself," Malfoy answered.

"How endearing," Potter muttered. It was low enough that Malfoy knew that it wasn’t meant for him to hear.

Malfoy turned off the shower and pulled Potter towards him. He rested on the back wall as Potter’s lips crash landed on his and Malfoy immediately bit Potter’s lower lip. Their hard cocks swiftly glided next to each other’s and Malfoy didn’t waste a moment to seize the opportunity to grab Potter’s arse. They continued snogging as Malfoy squeezed Potter’s arse and ground their cocks together.

Potter moaned. "Okay, okay, I get the point," he whispered against Malfoy’s lips. "We haven’t got much time."

Potter dropped to his knees and took in a good look at Malfoy’s erection. He licked his lips and Malfoy smiled at Potter’s reaction. Potter nuzzled under Draco’s cock and licked his balls.

"God, Potter."

"You smell like fresh cut flowers."

"I’ll take that as a compliment." He _had_ just washed himself.

Potter licked the head and Malfoy whimpered, he immediately began sucking and moved further up taking in the whole head. Malfoy ran his fingers through Potter’s hair and held on to a good chunk and formed a rhythm for Potter’s head movement. Malfoy didn’t mean to moan with every advance but it seemed that Potter’s tongue was the heavenliest thing he’d ever encountered. What was worse was that Potter had decided to massage Malfoy’s gluteus as his tongue was toying with his cock. _Where did he learn to do this_? Malfoy caught himself wondering. For a man who was still quite in the closet, Potter was a demigod.

When Malfoy came--and boy he did--Potter didn’t even flinch and licked and sucked him until he was completely dry. Potter released Draco’s limp cock from his mouth and Malfoy whined, it was definitely the most blissful thing that had been done to him in in a very a long time.

Potter pulled up and had the most devilish smirk on his face. He knew he was good. Malfoy had to retort.

"I’ll wipe that smirk right off your face tomorrow morning, Potter, when I fuck you in the staff lounge before our shift."

"That’s bold coming from someone who just had the greatest blow job they’ve ever received," Potter replied.

 _Bastard_.

"What makes you think that?" Malfoy asked in return.

"I don’t have to think it, it’s written all over your face," Potter answered.

"Just wait until the morning, Potter," Malfoy reiterated.

"Is that a promise?" Potter asked.

"Consider it a warning," Malfoy answered. He turned the shower on and grabbed the soap. He pushed Potter against the wall and got behind him. Lathering it up, he gently touched Potter’s hole and whispered again. "Take care of this tonight, Potter. I’ll claim it to be mine tomorrow."

Malfoy had never been this dirty with anyone ever before. He liked it. Potter challenged him in a way he couldn’t explain. The few dates Malfoy had been on earlier that year, he had attended French restaurants, or museums, bought roses for the blokes, took them on fancy dates before he shagged them but with Potter, he’d done what he’d never considered before. He had wondered what it was like to be dirty, to fuck someone in a shower, to talk about fucking in the future like it was a treat—this was a treat.

Malfoy bit the back of Potter’s neck when Potter moaned. He was touching himself. Malfoy turned him around and pulled him under the pouring hot water. He grasped Potter’s cock with his lathered hands and stroked it a few times. "Touch yourself, I want to watch."

Potter obliged. Malfoy rested his hands on Potter’s shoulders first then they slowly crept up his neck and grabbed onto his hair again. Their foreheads rested together as they both watched Potter wank. Potter made the most beautiful sounds.

After they had both finished Malfoy realised that it had been more than ten minutes and feared that the security guard would come looking for them at any moment’s notice. He scurried out of the shower first and began to dry himself. Potter followed—he must have understood what Malfoy thought and also dressed quickly.

"Need a lift?" Malfoy asked and Potter nodded.

——————————

When Malfoy pulled up in front of Potter’s home, Potter wasn’t sure if he should just thank Malfoy and leave the car or should he kiss him goodbye?

"So, I’ll see you in the morning?" Potter asked. He wasn’t sure he meant for Malfoy to pick him up or for the promise Malfoy had made earlier than evening.

"I’ll send you a text when I am nearing your house," Malfoy responded.

Potter nodded and left the car. _Well apparently we are not a kiss goodnight sort of folk_ , he told himself.

——————————

The next morning Potter woke up an hour earlier than usual. He wasn’t sure if he should _prepare_ himself for the fact that Malfoy was going to fuck him that morning. He wasn’t even sure if he really was going to do it or he'd simply wanted to rile Potter up.

"Are you ready?" Malfoy asked after Potter sat in his car and they sped off to work. Potter now knew better than to comment on Malfoy’s driving. He didn’t wish to be left on the curb again.

"Ready for what?" Potter asked nervously.

"The tournament tomorrow. I think the practice went pretty great last night, don’t you think?" Malfoy asked.

 _Oh. That_.

"I think so, I know that we have definitely got better in the past week, especially after the session with that University team. I'm sure we’ll give them a good run for their money."

Malfoy nodded. He had an odd sneer on his face and Potter wondered if Malfoy was purposely attempting to throw him off his game—so to speak.

"Are you ready?" Potter asked in turn.

Malfoy didn’t respond; they’d arrived at the station.

Malfoy and Potter were an hour early for their shift. They went to their respective lockers to undress and put on their uniform. Usually when they arrived early, Malfoy sat at the dispatch station with Nott and Potter sat in the lounge and read a book. Potter figured they would be doing the same today. By now he had figured that Malfoy’s ‘warning’ had been nothing but shower talk in the heat of the moment.

Malfoy left the locker room right away; he hadn’t changed. _Maybe he’s gone to get coffee_ , Potter thought as he continued undressing. He removed his t-shirt then his jeans. He bent down to pick up his shoes and tossed them in the locker when he heard a snicker in the background.

"You’re just making it too easy for me, Potter," Malfoy whispered.

"I didn’t think you were serious about it," Potter replied. It was the best he could come up with to not display the fact that he was disappointed that the promise hadn’t been valid.

"Do you want me to be serious about it?" Malfoy asked as he closed the distance between them. Potter turned to his side and noticed that Malfoy had shut the lounge door so anyone outside in the hallway couldn’t hear them.

 _I wonder how much he paid off Nott for staying at his post for the next forty-five minutes_.

Potter shrugged in his response to Malfoy’s question. He was never really the articulate one.

"I couldn’t sleep last night—I was too hard at the thought," Malfoy spoke, almost as a confession.

"Is that why you were driving less like a maniac this morning—because you’re still distracted?" Potter responded. He was now safe to make a comment about Malfoy’s driving.

Malfoy pushed Potter against the lockers, his thumbs instantly gripped the elastic of Potter’s underwear. Potter cursed himself for not being on guard and was regretting the fact that he was practically naked—ready for Malfoy to take him. He wished he could put up a bit of a fight before the inevitable happened. And then his body betrayed him some more, he was hard and Malfoy could feel it.

"Eager, are we, Potter?" Malfoy gloated.

"Get on with it, we haven’t got much time," Potter snapped. He saw the expression in Malfoy’s eyes change from hunger to a hint of dissatisfaction. Potter quickly extracted his comment. "Fuck me, Malfoy, I’ve wanted it all morning. I thought you promised me?"

Malfoy smiled again. Potter internally sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted was an agitated Malfoy for an eight hour shift. Malfoy reached in the back pocket of his trousers and handed Potter a condom. He turned Potter around and snapped the elastic of his pants.

"Warned, to be exact," Malfoy said. He pushed himself against Potter—still fully clothed—and Potter pressed back. Potter closed his eyes and bit his lip. He wanted this, he could try to deny it, it would be an absolute lie. He hardly ever bottomed and this time, he couldn’t wait.

Malfoy dropped on his knees and with his tongue slowly pulled down Potter’s underwear, he bit Potter’s arse and then used his fingers to remove it completely. Potter wished he could watch Malfoy do this—he wondered, if this led anywhere in the future, how Malfoy would think about being recorded. He dismissed the idea. He knew better than to make a sex video. Nothing good ever came of such a thing.

Malfoy kissed and bit Potter’s thighs, Potter wondered if he was going to have bite marks all over his skin now. Malfoy finally did what Potter hadn’t thought about. His tongue reached down to Potter’s most private part and pushed in. Potter’s body shuddered.

"Draco," Potter whispered. He only realised after the words had left his breath, he’d addressed Malfoy by his first name. _Shite._

Malfoy continued thrusting his tongue in Potter, _apparently_ dismissing Potter’s words.

"Want you," Potter whispered again.

Malfoy stood up and Potter could hear him unbuckle his belt and remove his trousers. He heard the sound of Malfoy’s shoes landing a few feet away, Malfoy must have kicked them off. Malfoy chose to keep his shirt on.

"We never have enough time for things I want to—spread your legs," Malfoy said. Potter obeyed. "Also, don’t call me that. Don’t make this personal."

Potter was wrong, Malfoy hadn’t dismissed it.

Malfoy took the condom from Potter’s hand opened the wrapper with his teeth. _What I wouldn’t do to watch his expression_ , Potter thought. _What I wouldn’t do for a bed!_

Malfoy grabbed Potter’s waist and pulled him towards him as Potter securely grasped onto something sturdy in his locker. His hole had been slick from Malfoy's tongue and Malfoy didn’t bother finding lube. Malfoy let go of Potter’s waist and used both hands to carefully put on the condom on. His left hand returned eventually to hold Potter as Malfoy gently slid one finger in Potter.

Potter moaned. It didn’t hurt to feel Malfoy inside him, it was strangely relaxing. Potter knew that they didn’t have enough time for this to be a very long and satisfying foreplay session. Malfoy quickly removed his finger, his hand returned to Potter’s waist and he lined his cock up to Potter’s hole and pushed in.

Potter pushed back, he wanted more. The palm of his hands pushed against the lockers as Malfoy continued thrusting into him.

"Potter—God, Potter—you’re so tight." Malfoy moaned. "Fuck," he added.

"Faster, _Dra–Malfoy_. More. Faster." Potter moaned almost in unison with Malfoy. More than anything, now, he was glad that Malfoy had closed the staff lounge door. He was sure if it had been open Nott could hear them.

Malfoy thrust again with double the force and soon his right hand clasped around Potter’s cock as he began to caress it. Potter moaned—it felt amazing.

A few minutes later Potter was coming into Malfoy’s hand and he heard Malfoy moan one last time before he came undone inside him. Malfoy continued his thrusts, spilling into Potter and Potter continued spilling all over Malfoy’s hand and the floor.

 _That’ll be a bitch to clean up_.

Malfoy remained inside Potter as they both stood still catching their breath. Potter felt Malfoy’s lips on the back of his neck—the touch was gentle enough that Potter thought he might have imagined it. Malfoy’s right arm was wrapped around Potter’s waist and Potter placed his hand on top of Malfoy’s. They stood still—the world stood still for a few short moments until Malfoy pulled out. He handed Potter a paper towel as he grabbed one for himself to clean up.

"We should get dressed quickly and I’ll get the cleaning spray for— _that_ ," Malfoy said pointing at the mess on the floor. Potter nodded. They got dressed in silence then, like he’d promised Malfoy grabbed a few more sheets of the paper towel and a floor cleaner. He sprayed the cleaner on the residue of their debauchery and handed a few of the sheets to Potter. They both bent down and cleaned the encumbrance off the locker and floor quietly.

"Do you have the time?" Potter asked as he stood up and took the dirty sheets from Malfoy’s hands and walked away to toss them in the rubbish bin.

"Ten minutes until we report at the dispatch station," Malfoy answered. He walked to the other side of the room to wash his hands in the sink. Potter joined him.

"We did good on timing," Potter commented casually.

"We are always good on timing," Malfoy replied, equally coolly.

The staff lounge doors burst open and Lupin walked in. "Good, you’re both here, I wanted to speak to you."

Potter’s heart sank. They _were_ good on timing: if Lupin had walked in five minutes earlier this could have been a very different conversation. Potter made a mental note of never shagging in the staff lounge again. _What was I thinking? How could I have thought this was a good idea? When did I even start listening to Malfoy_?

Potter turned to look at Malfoy and was sure that he'd understood his expression. "What is the matter, sir?" Malfoy asked, ignoring Potter’s look.

"There’s been some budget cuts and I can’t promote you both to the supervisory position as I had promised earlier. I am sorry, I know this looks bad, but I have been going back and forth and it just doesn’t seem possible at the moment. They’ve allowed me one promotion so—"

"Pansy," said Malfoy

"Ron," said Potter at the same time as Malfoy.

"I figured as such," said Lupin immediately after. "I’ve decided it’s going to be Patil."

"Patil?" both Malfoy and Potter exclaimed.

"Yes, she’s the best choice. She’s on top of her paperwork, she has never caused trouble, always on time, she’s always quick to respond and is the only one that hasn’t entangled herself in a workplace romance," Lupin answered. "I knew the moment I found out that only one person could be promoted—the two of you wouldn’t offer yourselves to be considered—so I had to evaluate the next best option."

Both Malfoy and Potter nodded in unison and headed off to the station to be dispatched to the next emergency.

——————————

The shift was great. Malfoy had made the news so Potter was glad that his partner was in the best of moods. There were no real emergencies again. Most of the motorway had been closed off due to the collision and was under construction and the biggest concern of the day had been traffic.

At the end of their shift when Potter left the station, he saw Malfoy’s car waiting outside for him. Potter walked up to it and without a word sat inside. He knew that if he’d tried to be polite to Malfoy, he’d only receive rudeness back.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Potter lingered for a moment.

"Do you want to come inside?" Potter asked.

"I already did today," Malfoy replied, his overconfident smirk displayed all over his face.

Potter rolled his eyes. "I’ve got a bed—why not make it a bit comfortable?"

"Probably not a good idea," Malfoy said. "I am going out for a drink though—do you want to come with?" he asked.

 _Yes, I want to go to my favourite pub, I know the perfect one with the dark corner. I want to sit in your lap, want to grind on you and I want to lick your neck and I want to feel your cock as I make you come in my hand._ Potter’s brain exploded with ideas.

"No, I should just get some rest. We’ve got the big game coming up," Potter replied, siding with his better judgement.

"Alright, I’ll see you then," Malfoy said. Potter nodded and was leaving the car feeling defeated when Malfoy pulled on his arm. Potter turned to look and Malfoy kissed him on the lips.

Potter leaned into the kiss; his left hand grabbed Malfoy’s neck and pulled him in closer. _Why does Malfoy always taste so amazing_?

"Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?" Potter asked.

"After the game," Malfoy said. "Win or lose, after the game we’ll celebrate or mourn with a shag. I’ll take my time with you—I promise," he whispered in Potter’s ear as Potter kissed Malfoy’s neck.

"If we lose and it’s your fault, I’ll come inside you," Potter declared.

"And if we win?" Malfoy asked.

Potter rolled his eyes. "I’ll do anything you want," Potter promised, as Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He regretted saying it immediately.

——————————

The game began with a strong start—for the other team. It was as though everything they’d practiced went out the window and the _Phoenix Order_ had forgotten how to play. It wasn’t until the first quarter was over that Lupin had to give a real shouting to his players. Malfoy and Potter hadn’t played first, they were being saved off as the secret weapon but, it seemed as though Lupin was forced to bring out the big guns.

Seeing Malfoy and Potter in action brought more confidence in the other players and by the end of the third quarter _the Phoenix Order_ was up by twelve points. The other team caught up really fast and it didn’t look like that the _Order_ was going to win, and the atmosphere grew tense. However, it was Weasley and Parkinson that ended up saving the night. After a few good passes by Longbottom, they were back on top.

The local news anchor-man that covered the spectacle even commented that professional sports teams could learn a thing or two about teamwork from _the Phoenix Order_.

The original plan was for Malfoy and Potter to meet up in the locker rooms after the game for a celebratory shag, after which they were going to meet up with all the other team members and their friends for drinks at the Cauldron. Potter arrived at the locker rooms and showered alone. He had hoped that Malfoy would have caught up to him but he hadn’t. He then dressed slowly as he was still waiting for Malfoy, an hour later than the planned time.

Ultimately Potter received a text on his mobile from Longbottom: _Where are you_? _We are all at the Cauldron. Get here soon_!

Potter replied: _Is Malfoy there_?

Longbottom instantly wrote back: _Yeah, but he’s sloshed and busy with some bloke, don’t tell me you don’t want to come out because of that git. I am sure he won’t bother you tonight_.

 _Busy with some bloke_. Potter read the words over and over again on his mobile. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been played for a fool. Potter sighed. He should have seen this coming, he should have expected this. Why would he have thought that anything he had with Malfoy was actually worth something? _It wasn’t_. This was Malfoy. He was a wanker, a tosser, just like Ron always called him.

Potter packed up his bags and headed for the Cauldron but before arriving at the pub, he called the station.

——————————

At the Cauldron, Malfoy was, in fact, busy with some bloke. The brown haired man had his arm around Malfoy’s waist and they were busy doing shots.

"Hey, you made it. Finally!" Bones greeted Potter.

"Yeah, sorry. I got held up with something," Potter replied. "Having a good time?" Potter turned to Longbottom and asked.

"Yeah, can I get you a drink?" Bones insisted on interrupting the conversation. Potter really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her flirting. He could have wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek. He could have flirted back but he didn’t want to lead her on and give her the wrong impression and he knew that Malfoy would see right through it. Malfoy would know that Potter was only flirting with Bones trying to make him jealous—and he was above that. He was above Malfoy.

Before Potter was going to answer, Lupin stopped by. "Having a good time?" he asked, smiling and visibly drunk.

"Yeah, Potter just got here. I was about to get him a drink," Longbottom answered.

"Don’t worry about it, mate," Potter said. "I called the station before heading here, they’re short on on-call staff so I am going to head there instead. We need some sober Emergency Personnel tonight."

"Oh, that’s too bad!" Bones said.

"Thanks, Harry. That’s really great of you!" Lupin said, talking over Bones.

"Don’t worry about it, gotta work hard for that next promotion!" Potter joked. He patted Longbottom on the shoulder and placed a small peck on Bones’ cheek. _Why not_? he thought. It was a friendly gesture, not a flirty one. "I’ll see you lot later, and don’t be too hung-over for your shift tomorrow!"

They waved their goodbyes to Potter who turned to look at them one last time before heading out to the station. From the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy. He hadn’t seen Potter, mainly because the bloke in his arms had his tongue down Malfoy’s throat.

 _Right_. He headed out the door, he had to phone a taxi and work the nightshift. Thank the Gods he had the day off the next day. He could simply sleep off his _non-heartbreak_.

——————————

The next day when Potter woke up in the afternoon, he noticed he had several missed calls. Five of them were from Malfoy, along with three text messages and one voice mail. He ignored them all. The only person he called back was his godfather to arrange plans for dinner. He could use the distraction.

Before his shift, twenty hours later, Potter arranged to pick up his car from the shop. He was thankful that he no longer would need to rely on Malfoy for a lift. How he would deal with Malfoy for the next few days at work, was the real concern.

Another text message from Malfoy. _Need a lift to work or shall I assume you’ve dropped dead_?

Potter sighed and finally answered one of Malfoy’s text. _Going to pick up the car today, don’t need a lift_.

He half expected Malfoy to write back saying that he was glad that Potter’s not dead because then he’d have passed up the promotion for no reason. He was sure that Malfoy at least thought about it.

Potter arrived at the station in a good mood. It was good to be back behind the wheel and not depend on others for lifts. He walked in to see Nott and Malfoy talking, he nodded at them and headed towards the employee lounge. He didn’t know why he was surprised when a few moments later Malfoy had him cornered.

"What’s the matter with you?" Malfoy asked.

"Me?" Potter replied, with a calm tone.

Their confrontation was interrupted when Parvati Patil walked into the lounge and let out an exasperated sigh. They did look like they were about to fight again.

"Congrats, Parvati!" Potter said, shoving Malfoy away from him and walked towards Patil to shake her hand.

"Thanks, Harry. Sorry if I stole the advance from you two!" she replied with a gracious smile and then looked at Malfoy and nodded.

"We were busy trying not to let the other man win and a woman scored right by," Potter joked. "No, really. You deserve it."

She smiled again and began to walk away pausing for a moment as though she was contemplating saying something. "Lupin told me to keep an eye on you two, so just so you know, I’d really appreciate it if you could keep the arguments at the minimum."

"You’re the boss," Malfoy retorted, with half a snort as he walked past them. Potter and Patil both looked at each other and shrugged. Now he was both of their problems, not just Potter’s.

The shift was relatively quiet, it was definitely a day where they saved cats from trees and resuscitated an elderly gentleman than save a herd of children from a toppled over bus. At the end of the day Potter and Malfoy were back to the routine of grunting at each other in acknowledgement and barely spoke. Potter kept himself busy with crosswords and Sudoku so he wouldn’t have to think about Malfoy and the brief showers they'd shared together. Malfoy on the other hand had been on his mobile the entire time they weren’t _on the job_. Distracting himself from the thoughts of who Malfoy was texting was tougher for Potter to ignore.

Potter avoided Malfoy the entire time they were back at the station. He was glad that there were other people in the employee lounge so he wouldn’t be pinned down again by Malfoy. He said his goodnights and all but darted out of the station, got in his car, and sped off.

That night Potter tossed and turned in his bed and checked his mobile over twenty times to see if Malfoy had called or texted. He hadn’t. He was probably off with that man from the pub anyway. He woke up too early for his own good the next day. Along with making coffee, showering and enjoying a hearty wank, Potter decided to do something he probably shouldn’t have done.

He sent a text message to Malfoy. _My car is still having trouble getting started, so I might need a lift today if you’re around_.

He waited anxiously. Why he’d decided to do that was beyond him. His car was perfectly fine—better than ever. The shop had guaranteed him that it was going to be as good as new and it was. But Potter was Potter. The new found monster inside him riled up whenever he’d think of Malfoy’s arm around the bloke and he needed a reason to calm it. Whenever they were together, he realised, even if they didn’t speak, Potter had been his calmest. He needed that calm. The same man who’d made him recognise this new found monster in his chest also had the ability to soothe it.

His mobile chirped. _Alright_. That’s all the message said. Potter sighed with relief. He felt like an idiot.

A few hours later he heard three honks. Three was good, three just meant Malfoy was impatient and wanted to leave. Potter was out the door in no time and settled himself in Malfoy’s car.

"What’s wrong with your car now?" Malfoy asked in a casual tone.

"Not sure, it just wouldn’t start," Potter lied. "I’ll have Sirius look at it after work tonight."

Malfoy didn’t respond. They drove in silence for a while until Potter reached for the radio. "Don’t change the station."

"I hate this song," Potter replied. "You know I don’t like this station."

"I don’t care what you don’t like," Malfoy retorted.

"That much is obvious," Potter sneered in return.

"So that’s what this is about, isn’t it?" Malfoy looked at Potter as he asked the question.

"Keep your eyes on the road," Potter exclaimed. "What is what about?"

"Why you didn’t answer my calls or returned my messages? You are cross about that bloke from the Cauldron."

"I am not cross about anything. You made yourself clear. I waited for you, you didn’t show, then I saw you snogging some other man and I left. There’s nothing about anything. I got the message. You were done."

" _What_?" Malfoy snapped.

Potter didn’t understand why _Malfoy_ was being so upset. If anyone should have been upset it should have been him.

"Lupin said we needed to get along. We got along—we shagged. We won the tournament, we didn’t get the promotion. Now we’re back to where we started—partners at work and hopefully less hostile towards each other. We got along fine yesterday."

"You call that getting along _fine_?" Malfoy snapped at Potter again. "You didn’t even look at me once."

"I never looked at you before," Potter replied.

"Fuck off, Potter. You know that’s pure cock-and-bull."

Potter knew it was. They might not have spoken to each other kindly at work before but they had an understanding. The day before had been severely stressful; he wondered if Malfoy had felt it too. Apparently he had.

Five more minutes of driving in silence. Though he may not have looked at Malfoy before on purpose, now he was afraid to look at him. Potter slowly turned his head to the right to look at Malfoy who was concentrating on the road.

"I was going to meet up with you as we had planned but the team stopped me for drinks and I couldn't think of an excuse good enough that they’d let me go."

"So naturally you kissed that bloke—to keep up appearances."

"I didn’t know we were exclusive."

"I never said that!"

"Then what are you saying, Potter?" They had stopped at the light and Malfoy turned to look at him. Potter couldn’t even tell him to pay attention to the road because they were stopped. "I, unlike you, don’t jump to conclusions."

Potter glared at him but didn’t respond.

Malfoy continued, "I, unlike you, can talk things out like adults that we are supposed to be."

"Yeah," said Potter, "but you, unlike me, are a git, now drive."

The work day flew by quickly and easily, which was surprising because they’d worked a double. The tension had been released and there was no more pent up aggravation between Potter and Malfoy. They still didn’t talk and ate their meals separately but their sixteen hour shift was smooth and they’d managed to exhibit the same kind of team-work they’d always executed. It was all fine, until the drive home.

"Do you want to come in?" Potter asked, he couldn’t help himself, the fool that he was.

"Potter, I told you—"

"Nothing exclusive, I know. Just a bed—and we could use the bed—" Potter tried hard to sound nonchalant. He knew he’d failed, he just prayed that he didn’t sound completely desperate.

"Not exclusive, no bed," Malfoy replied. Potter didn’t answer him. He grabbed his effects and left, glad that they were off again the next day and he wouldn’t see Malfoy until the all-staff meeting the day after.

Potter barely slept that night or the night after. When he stumbled in to work he didn’t even notice someone sitting in the waiting area at the station. The waiting area by the dispatcher station, where Nott usually sat, had a few chairs—if someone came to the main office, that’s where they sat.

"Potter, you’ve got a guest," Nott said.

Potter dismissed him and mumbled, "Not now, Nott. Give me a minute."

——————————

Potter looked like death when he’d walked in. He didn’t acknowledge Malfoy, and barely even realised what Nott had said before heading to the employee lounge.

"Sorry, it seems Princess is in one of her moods today," Malfoy said to a guest that waited in the visitor’s lounge. A bloke, tall, skinny with dirty blond hair had come into the station asking for Potter. Nott had told him to wait as Potter hadn’t come into work yet and he sat patiently. "What did you say your name was again?" Malfoy asked. He’d been curious about the bloke ever since he’d walked into work.

"I didn’t," the bloke answered. "It’s Smith— _Zach_."

Malfoy was about to ask more on the man’s personal business when Potter returned from the employee lounge. "What were you on about, _Snott_?" Potter taunted Nott and Malfoy snorted. He cursed himself for not thinking of that nick name ever before.

"This man is here patiently waiting for you," Nott sneered.

"Oh, hi," Potter spoke, startled. "I didn’t realise—I am sorry. Can I help you?"

Malfoy and Nott watched with interest, Malfoy knew it was annoying Potter because he often hated being stared at while he was talking to someone else.

"Hi, I am Zach," Smith said. "I—uh—we played against your team last week at the Charity Fund. We were the _Rusty Daggers_."

"Oh yes, of course. Sorry for your loss," Potter teased. "Are you here for a job?"

Malfoy watched with fascination. Why was this bloke here? What did he want with Potter? He worked for another Emergency Medical Response company, if he wanted a job, why would he ask Potter?

"No—" Smith answered. "I am perfectly happy where I am.” He smiled and hesitated for a moment. "I noticed you—on the floor when we were playing. You’re quite good."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, thanks," Potter said.

"I was going to approach you after the game but it seemed as though you disappeared. I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a drink sometime?"

"Oh," Potter said.

 _Oh_ , Malfoy echoed in his head.

"I’ve asked around," Smith continued. "You’re single, right?"

Potter cleared his throat. Malfoy took a step back anticipating Potter’s answer.

"Yeah, I am _unattached_ ," Potter answered.

 _Bastard_ , Malfoy thought.

"Great! This is my number—" Smith handed Potter a piece of paper. "I hope to hear from you soon." His grin was trying. Potter nodded back with an equally infuriating smile.

Malfoy looked at Nott who seemed mesmerised by the exchange that had just taken place. He was glad that Nott missed the contemptuous look Malfoy caught in his reflection in the hallway mirror. He straightened his face before Potter turned around.

Potter immediately looked at Malfoy, for a reaction, Malfoy assumed. He wasn’t going to give Potter the satisfaction that he was bothered. "Harry Potter—The Boy Who Scored," Malfoy said, hoping that his tone came out more teasing than troubled. Potter scowled at him and walked away.

It had worked.

The all-staff meeting was quite mundane. The usual matters were discussed, along with Patil’s promotion. Malfoy barely paid attention to any of it because he was staring at Potter who still held onto the piece of paper in his hand. He’d occasionally look at it as though he was trying to memorize Smith’s phone number.

Malfoy didn’t want to admit it, but he was annoyed. Really, really annoyed. He turned his attention to Lupin hoping he’d be distracted enough to no longer give a shite about Potter and his upcoming date with that wanker with the stupid nose. Malfoy didn’t know him but he was sure the bloke was a wanker. If it was him and he’d spotted Potter, he wouldn’t have waited nearly a week to contact him. He would have asked him out straightaway.

Malfoy caught himself in his thoughts. This was more than just being bothered. He was _jealous_. He’d been attracted to Potter, sure, he was good looking and their recent sexual encounters had been pleasurable but jealousy was a new sentiment for Malfoy. He’d never cared enough about anyone in the past to actually be possessive—and _Potter_ of all people?

He let out an exasperated sigh and inadvertently received the attention of the entire room. They all turned to look at Malfoy. Apparently his sigh had been right after Lupin had finished talking.

"What?" Malfoy snapped.

"As I was saying," Lupin said, with a hint of irritation. "We are quite short staffed this week as three of our team members are on holiday. So any help you can provide and pick up extra shifts, it’ll be brilliant—and you might need to switch partners as well so be prepared for that."

Patil started speaking next and Malfoy tuned out again.

"Great!" many people spoke at once and broke Malfoy’s concentration.

"What’s going on?" Malfoy asked.

"The meeting’s over," Parkinson told him. "What is with you today?" she asked, her voice was concerned. Malfoy turned to look at where Potter was sitting and the seat was empty. "He was staring at you the entire time," Parkinson added and Malfoy looked up at her, stunned speechless. "Whatever it is going on between you two, it’s different isn’t it?"

Malfoy nodded and looked down at his hands again. He was suddenly very interested in his mobile.

"You’ll tell me when you’re ready," Parkinson said, she kissed the top of his head. "Don’t forget, you’re with me today."

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked.

"We are all switching partners since Longbottom, Zabini and Brown are on vacation and Patil’s got herself a desk job. So Lupin put me with you and Ron with Potter."

"Oh, okay. What’s the plan of action?" Malfoy asked.

"Well Ron and I are going to get some food. We’ll be back in a few. We are back-ups today so unless there’s an emergency we’ll just be sitting around. I’ll bring you a snack," she smiled and left the conference room.

Malfoy made his way to the employee lounge to change into his uniform. When he arrived, the lounge looked empty but he heard something crash in the back. He went to investigate and found Potter struggling with a giant box of Oxygen regulators. Potter was shirtless as he lifted the box and Malfoy saw drops of sweat trickling down his neck. He wanted nothing more than to lick it.

He snapped out of it.

"Need a hand, Potter?" Malfoy asked, again trying to sound as nonchalant as he could.

"No, I can manage. Just need to get it out the door. Lupin wants me to make sure all the vehicles are stocked," Potter answered, without looking at Malfoy.

"What is your fucking problem?" Malfoy shortened the distance between himself and Potter and pulled on Potter’s arm so Potter could face him.

" _My_ problem?" Potter bellowed. He pushed Malfoy away from him, which only resulted in Malfoy shoving him back against the wall. They were in the back room and no one would be able to see them unless they were looking. "Malfoy, stop." Potter was completely pinned under Malfoy’s body.

"Why, Potter? Do you _really_ want me to stop?" Malfoy teased. His hand was on Potter’s groin and Potter was hard. Malfoy was too. He pushed his erection in Potter’s thigh, it hurt, and he oddly loved doing it.

"No..." Potter whispered, his eyes closed.

"What did you say, Potter?" Malfoy asked, licking the sweat off Potter’s neck.

"I don’t want you to stop," Potter whispered again. Malfoy’s hand had reached inside Potter’s trousers and had begun stroking Potter’s cock. "Suck me off," Potter whispered once more. His voice was so low that Malfoy wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.

Malfoy pulled himself away from Potter’s body and Potter opened his eyes. They stared into each other’s eyes as though they didn’t need the words to confirm what was going to happen next. This was what working with Potter was like: Malfoy looked at him and knew what the other meant.

Without another word, Malfoy dropped on his knees and completely opened Potter’s trousers and pulled them down. Potter’s cock stared right at him and Malfoy licked his lips. Potter was eager, he’d slowly began thrusting into Malfoy’s mouth before Malfoy had even had a chance to place his mouth properly. Malfoy chuckled a bit but didn’t mind. He was glad to know that Potter was desperate.

Malfoy closed his lips over Potter’s prick and sucked. His tongue swirled around, savouring Potter’s taste and he sucked again. Potter moaned his name. His first name. He tightened his lips and moved his head up and down. Malfoy only hoped that Potter wouldn’t get any louder. If anyone walked into the lounge they might not be able to see them, but they’d definitely hear the incredible sounds he made.

It wasn’t long until Potter came in Malfoy’s mouth and Malfoy continued sucking taking in everything Potter had to offer. Why he hadn’t sucked Potter off before was lost on him. He remembered how incredible Potter’s tongue had been on his own prick and his cock ached more with desire than it already was.

Malfoy released Potter’s limp cock and started moving upwards with a trail of kisses from Potter’s groin to his stomach then to his chest. Potter’s eyes were still closed and his lips a bit parted, almost inviting him. He immediately pressed his lips against Potter’s, sliding in his tongue. Potter didn’t hold back sucking on Malfoy’s tongue as his hands pulled him closer. Malfoy pushed his trousers down and freed his cock so that he could wank himself. Potter yanked his hand away and took control on Malfoy’s cock. It only took a few strokes before Malfoy came undone all over Potter’s hand. Their lips barely parted from each other the entire time as Malfoy moaned into Potter’s mouth.

"You’re so sexy when you come," Potter said.

Malfoy ultimately distanced himself from Potter to take a breather. He panted as though there wasn’t enough air for him to draw in. "I bet Smith won’t leave you so winded," Malfoy blurted out, immediately regretting having showed that he cared.

"No, probably not," Potter replied.

"But you’re still going to go on a date?" Malfoy asked.

"Well, he did make an effort to come and see me and besides—" Potter paused.

"Besides what?" Malfoy asked, he was still pressed against Potter and wasn’t about to let him go without finishing his sentence.

"We should get cleaned up, Ron will be here any second," Potter said, avoiding Malfoy’s glare.

Malfoy slammed his hand against the back wall and nearly screamed. "Dammit, Potter! Besides _what_?"

"Besides—he probably wouldn’t mind a bed or shagging exclusively," Potter answered. His eyes pierced through Malfoy and Malfoy felt as though he’d just been punched in the stomach.

"Okay, fine," Malfoy replied.

"Fine?" Potter asked, confused. Malfoy was still pressing himself against Potter.

"Fine. I’ll shag you in a bed—your bed and I want you—exclusively," Malfoy replied. There was no going back now. He knew he was jealous of Smith and he didn’t want him to have Potter and the only way that would happen was if he’d keep Potter all to himself. Potter was a stubborn git, he was an _all or nothing_ kind of bloke, and Malfoy might secretly admire that. _Might_.

Potter grinned. He didn’t get a chance to respond as they heard someone enter the lounge. He pushed Malfoy away and buttoned up his trousers and immediately carried out the box of oxygen regulators before whoever it was had a chance to discover them in the back. Malfoy dressed quickly as well and cleaned up behind himself as much as he could. By the time he arrived at the front, there was no one there. He sighed with relief and started changing out of his _I just shagged Potter_ clothes to his uniform.

Malfoy had a double shift with Parkinson and they had fun. There hadn’t been too many emergencies—it really had been a slow month after the motorway accident involving the school children—and Malfoy was glad. He considered Parkinson as one of his best friends but didn’t share his latest news with her. He really wanted to see where this Potter _exclusivity_ thing was going to go before he announced it to the girl whose boyfriend had a hard time keeping his trap closed.

During their break from one shift to another, Malfoy and Parkinson decided to head back to the base. Malfoy wanted to see Potter but he wouldn't dare say anything to Parkinson; she had already expressed her interest in snogging her boyfriend, thoroughly grossing Malfoy out.

When they arrived at the station, Patil requested to see Malfoy in her office.

"Malfoy, how do you like working with Parkinson?" she asked.

"It’s fine, as long as it’s temporary," he answered.

"Oh. Would you prefer someone else as your partner then?" Patil had been looking at a file at her desk but now looked up at Malfoy to hear his answer.

"I don’t understand, what’s wrong with Potter?" Malfoy asked, confused.

"Oh," she said again. "I thought he’d discussed it with you. Potter had requested a change in partner."

"When?" Malfoy asked. He felt angry and betrayed: why hadn’t Potter told him?

"A few days ago," she replied calmly as though it didn’t mean anything. "I only found out about it today," Patil added. Malfoy turned around and began to walk out of her office, he couldn't think, he didn’t know what to do, the only thing he wanted to do was punch Potter. "Malfoy, wait, where are you going?" Patil yelled after him but he didn’t stop.

——————————

——————————

"It’s all my fault, Pans," Malfoy whispered as he watched an unconscious Potter wired up to countless tubes on the hospital bed at the Albus Dumbledore Memorial Hospital. Potter had been in a coma for four nights and Malfoy hadn’t left his side.

"It’s not your fault—you didn’t cause the accident, Draco," Parkinson said, trying to console Malfoy.

"I shouldn’t have screamed at him like that, I should have—" Malfoy began sobbing. "—heard his side," he managed to say.

It had happened five days ago, almost after Malfoy had left Patil’s office. He walked down the hall and screamed at Potter, called him all the names in the book he could think of. He’d been so livid that now—after everything—he didn’t even remember anymore. It didn’t even matter anymore. What he had said, what he had felt. He had been wrong, and he’d taken out his anger on the wrong person _again_.

He thought Potter had betrayed him, shagged him, gotten him to confess his feelings, then was going to get a new partner, just to spite him. He’d been wrong. They had a huge brawl and Potter left his shift early, got in his car and drove off. An hour later the call came in—there had been roadside traffic collision—a crimson Mitsubishi Nimbus was crushed along with the driver inside it. Malfoy heard the call; it sounded like Potter’s car. It was.

"Harry had told me about the two of you," Lupin told Malfoy, one day after Potter had been in the hospital. The first day of his comatose state.

"What did he say?" Malfoy asked.

Lupin and Malfoy were sitting beside Potter’s bed. Everyone else had gone home for the night. Malfoy refused to leave. He asked Lupin for the week off. He didn’t care if Lupin sacked him. He was going to be there when Potter woke up.

"At first he told me that he wanted a new partner because the two of you had shagged and he felt that it was going to affect your work," Lupin said and Malfoy nodded. "I told him to give it a few days. You two seemed to be fine, so I thought whatever it was, was over." He paused for a moment. "Then he told me that he thought he should get a new partner because he was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same way," Lupin added, pausing again for a few more seconds. "I told him I’d think about it. Patil had just been promoted and three of the staff members were on holiday.” Lupin smiled. “Finally he came to me again and told me that he definitely needed a new partner because you two had decided to become exclusive."

Malfoy looked up almost immediately from Potter to Lupin. His eyes wide, he was stunned speechless.

"I’d never seen him that happy," Lupin said. "It was the same expression he had on his face when Sirius had adopted him and brought him home—away from his horrible aunt and uncle. He looked like a child in a sweet shop."

"He wanted a new partner because—"

"Because he wanted to be your boyfriend," Lupin said. "He knew that if you were caught dating your partner it was grounds for termination. Parkinson and Weasley were the last draw, the board isn’t happy with partners pursuing a sexual relationship so the new employee regulations dictate that if you were reported, you’ll receive a series of disciplinaries until your dismissal.”

"He was trying to save our jobs," Malfoy said, more to himself than anything else.

"Yeah, he’s quite the chivalrous martyr," Lupin replied.

Malfoy snorted. "That’s what I hated about him."

"I know, I reckon he knows that too," Lupin answered with a smile.

"The last thing I want is for him to know all the things I hate—I want him to know—" Malfoy sighed. "I don’t even know."

"Talk to him," a voice from behind Malfoy said. Malfoy turned to see who it was and it was Sirius Black, Potter’s godfather. "They say you should talk to a coma patient, they can usually hear you. Say all the words you wanted to say, that you want to take back, tell him how you feel, talk it out if you don’t know."

Malfoy nodded.

The second day Potter was scheduled for two operations, and another one on the third day. Malfoy barely went home. He was eventually forced to go home and rest on the night of the fifth day. They told him that he couldn’t do anything for Potter and he needed to take care of himself too.

Against his own will, Malfoy went home to sleep. Trouble was, he couldn’t sleep. He showered, then made something to eat and finally turned on the telly.

Malfoy eventually dozed off on the sofa watching telly. Two hours later his mobile buzzed and Parkinson informed him that Potter was out of another operation.

 

_He’s still unconscious and they’re saying that he won’t wake for few more hours, will keep you updated._

 

Malfoy thought about going to the hospital, he wanted to be there when Potter woke up. An hour later he received another text message, this time it was from Lupin.

 

_Harry’s awake. He’s on a lot of drugs but he’s awake._

 

Malfoy jumped up off the sofa and grabbed his car keys. He was at the hospital in less than ten minutes. He ran through the main gate and checked in at the receptionist as a guest. Padma Patil informed him that he was in room three hundred and seventeen. Malfoy barely thanked her as he dashed towards the third floor. His heart was rapidly beating and his knees felt as though they would give out at any second. He felt himself burning up. He’d never felt this tense before. He wasn’t sure why. This was good news, the worst was over, Potter was going to be okay.

When he reached the room, he almost smashed into the glass door. Several sets of eyes looked upon him as though he was a maniac. He felt dampness on his back and realised that he must have really broke a sweat running up the stairs and approaching the room in record time. Without thinking, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his right hand.

"Potter!" he huffed.

"Draco," Potter replied politely.

"You’re... you’re awake," Malfoy added catching his breath.

"Malfoy, you didn’t have to come right away," Lupin said. From the corner of his eye, Malfoy noticed Sirius Black was sitting by Potter’s bed. He slowly took in the room noticing who else was still there. Weasley, Parkinson, Longbottom, Patil and Bones.

"I know," Malfoy replied. He returned his gaze towards Potter, examining him, attempting to assess his healing process.

"I need to get some coffee," Sirius announced, "Remus?" Lupin nodded his head and followed Potter’s godfather out of the room.

"Me too," Longbottom said nodding towards Parkinson who in turn pulled on Weasley and Bones. Bones took the longest to leave the room, Malfoy glowered at her.

"They told me you were at the crash site," Potter said. He rested his head back against the pillow; Malfoy noticed he looked a bit floozy. _Must be the drugs_.

"Are you in any pain?" Malfoy asked. Potter shook his head. "That’s good, do you mind if I sit?" He pointed at the chair next to Potter’s hospital bed and Potter nodded with a smile.

"They also told me you were here every day and wouldn’t leave, at all," Potter added.

"Yeah, they tried to toss me out, it didn’t work," Malfoy replied.

"Why?" Potter asked, wide–eyed.

"Why what?" Malfoy responded.

"I thought you hated me," Potter said.

"Far from it," Malfoy replied, "apparently." Potter looked confused. "I don’t hate you, Potter. I haven’t _hated_ you for a long time now."

Potter extended his hand towards Malfoy who instantly held it. He pulled Malfoy in as Malfoy stood up from his chair and leaned in towards Potter. They gently kissed and when Malfoy pulled back he noticed Potter closed his eyes and displayed a small smile.

"You should rest," Malfoy whispered as Potter nodded. He lay down on the bed and Malfoy took his seat on the chair, but continued to hold Potter’s hand.

"Draco?" Potter said. "You’re not going to yell at me for calling you that, are you?" Potter looked genuinely frightened, Malfoy couldn’t help but laugh.

"No, it’s alright, Harry."

"You’ll be here when I wake up?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when you shagged me against the lockers?" Potter’s eyes were closed and he hadn’t noticed that people were beginning to come back in the room.

"Yeah...?" Malfoy asked hesitantly.

"I was sore for two days."

Draco looked up to his colleagues that had entered the room, he was mortified. Though under different circumstances he would have enjoyed a good joshing on Potter but here he was, the man that sort of had his heart and he was severely high on drugs talking about his arse being fucked, not realising he’s announcing it to all of his friends, _and_ his godfather.

"Draco?" Potter spoke again.

"Yes?" Malfoy was nervous. He wasn’t sure what other candid statements would flow out of the half–asleep man.

"Next time I am going to be on top," Potter announced.

Malfoy chuckled. Mortified still, he was intrigued by the idea of being shagged by Potter. He couldn’t wait for Potter to get better so he could take him home and shag him all the ways until Sunday.

"That can be arranged," Malfoy said, burying his face in Potter’s hand he was still holding.

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise," Malfoy affirmed. He heard a faint giggle; he knew it was his flatmate.

"I love you, Draco," Potter uttered the words before he was finally sound asleep.

"I love you too, Harry," Malfoy whispered, he kissed Potter’s hand and laid his own head down next to Potter’s body on the bed. Audience be damned, he was going to spend the night there and be as vulnerable as he desired.

——————————

Thanks for reading!  
The End 


End file.
